Chapter 7: Pouring It Back

Sometimes I don’t know what I want. Maybe I just want to take someone down with me, or make enough of a mess that nothing else matters.

The conference room was wall-to-wall with middle-aged men. Ethan stood out—handsome, cold, untouchable. All eyes swung to me. Maybe the AC was set too low; I couldn’t stop shaking.

Ethan scooped me up, the smell of smoke clinging to him. Cold, sharp, familiar.

"When’d you get here, hmm?"

A second ago, he’d been chewing out his staff. Now, he was gentle—at least with me.

...

The meeting broke up. I found myself in his massive office, city spread out below the window like a map you could crush with your fist.

He threw me onto the bed in the lounge, unfastening his tie, eyes burning. Maybe he was angry I’d interrupted him.

"Miss me that much today?"

He twisted my hair around his fingers.

I looked at him, flatly.

"Ethan, do you have milk in here?"

He blinked, caught off guard. Then he fished a carton from the mini fridge and handed it over.

"Is there none left at home…?"

I didn’t let him finish. I unscrewed the cap and poured it over his head.

He didn’t even flinch. Milk dripped down his face, and still—he looked impossibly handsome.

"Ethan, you used to pour milk over my head just like this!"

...

No one else could make him look so ridiculous. He just laughed, then grabbed another carton. This time, he poured it over me.

The milk was ice cold, sliding down my neck and soaking my shirt. My shoulders jerked up, cold soaking straight through my T-shirt. I bit my lip so hard I tasted blood, but I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing me cry.

The smell clung to my skin, sweet and sour, impossible to wash away.

He smoothed my hair off my cheek.

"Now, you’re just like me."

I shoved him away, hard.

"Aubrey, you know it’s not good to make me angry, right?"

He pinched my chin, and I froze. Maybe I’m not afraid of him—maybe I just hate what happens when he gets mad.

He carried me into the bathroom. Steam blurred his outline, the light flickering.

"Ethan, it’s been seven years. Why did you come back for me?"

He just stared, silent.